


The End

by EponineTheStrange (gallifreyandglowclouds)



Category: Flashpoint
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 19:59:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyandglowclouds/pseuds/EponineTheStrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here's how I would choose to finish up Flashpoint if I were writing the show. This fic will probably make everyone very happy that I'm not writing the show. This is a team fic but it will generally focus on Jules and Sam because they are my OTP (although Spike and Winnie are fairly cute too).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Jules?” 

“Yeah Sam?” Jules turned to him as they sped off to their hot call for the morning. 

“About what I asked this morning…” 

“Sam, everything that we’re saying right now if going to end up in the transcript. So not right now, please.” Jules said, her eyes focused on the road. 

Sam gently rested his hand on her shoulder. 

“Sam. Driving. Not now. We’ll talk later.”  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

If there was any such thing as a standard hot call, this was it. Actually, it probably went slightly better than average, because neither the subject nor any of them ended up with any extra holes in them. Yeah, Jules realized, the ten-year old who ended up with a gun to his head might need some therapy in the future but no one died, so, good day. 

There was, of course, the small awkward matter of how the morning prior to their getting called in to work went, and that was more what Jules had on her mind.  
Yeah, it was obvious that Sam had something planned. He didn’t go to bed when she drifted upstairs (much to her disappointment) and Jules was asleep by the time he crawled in to bed with her. He presumably did end up coming to bed, because when Jules woke up there was a slightly warm indentation beside her but no Sam. 

Well, that was weird. Breakfast was either a collaborative venture or Jules just ended up cooking, so having Sam make her breakfast was unique.

And nice. 

And surprising. 

And slightly scary. 

Sam was hiding something, she was sure of it, but she guessed that you usually didn’t make breakfast for someone who you were planning on breaking up with. But there was another possibility, that Sam might have proposing, which Jules had considered and supposed was a logical place for their relationship to go because they hopefully weren’t going to break up. But the prospect of sticking a ring on her third finger was terrifying because of past issues and the way that things went with her mom and dad, and that fact made Jules roll over and pretend to be asleep for a little while. 

Soon Sam came up and poked her, and said, “I know you’re faking it, I don’t think you’ve slept later than eight o’clock the entire time that we have been together. So come for breakfast.” 

Jules rolled over, stood up, and pressed herself to Sam for a quick kiss, then followed him downstairs. Sam had prepared a feast of omelettes, and toast, and fruit, and that made Jules incredibly happy. 

“I didn’t think that your culinary skills extended this far, Sam,” Jules said, smiling. 

“I’ve done some studying,” Sam said. “The internet is helpful in these matters.” 

They sat down and enjoyed their breakfast, after which Sam turned to Jules and said, “Julianna Callaghan, I have something to ask you.”

“Oh,” Jules said. 

“Jules, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m sorry – “ he paused, and shook his head, “I should have probably thought of a way smoother way to ask, but will you marry me?” 

And then he was pulling out a ring and Jules was feeling her knees go week, “Sam – I don’t know what to say –“ 

Both of their phones rang simultaneously at that moment. Jules looked at her phone and said, “It’s the boss. We have to go.” 

“But…”

“Later,” Jules said, “let’s talk later.” 

Sam rolled his eyes but followed her out. 

Jules had every intention of saying yes to Sam, and it was mostly owing to timing that they didn’t finish that conversation and seal it with a kiss. It looked like a nice ring, and Jules was starting to think that there was something iffy about his surprise trip to the base (presumably to see his parents, which was weird). But, there was something about the idea of commitment that made her want to bolt. Hopefully Sam wouldn’t go all coffee shop on her ass (that sounded so funny in her head) and that he’d still mean that marriage proposal once they got off the call.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It was a good day on the call in Sam’s perspective. No one died. That was that. After the debrief, Spike invited the team to the Goose. Everyone had excuses to decline – Ed was busy with Izzie, Greg had something to deal with something with Dean, Leah was just tired (true, she did look exhausted) – except Winnie, and Spike’s eyes were so shiny that Sam decided to skip out on the double date awkwardness and declined for him and Jules, even though she wasn’t out of the change room left. 

Of course, she was the last one out, and he was sitting in Winnie’s seat, hoping that no calls came in because he would probably be a useless dispatcher.  
So then he had time to think, specifically about how the morning went. 

In his mind, it didn’t go well. She hadn’t said no, but she’d put it off, which made Sam – not angry, exactly, that wasn’t what he was feeling – but a lot of work and thought had gone in to the proposal, simple as it was, and he felt like he deserved an answer instead of her willingness to run off to a hot call. The ring was his grandmother’s, and it took a drive to Trenton and an awkward meal with his parents before he could make off with the small velveteen box. He thought he was going to have to promise his dad a few more years in the military before he would hand it over but things ended up okay. Breakfast was a challenge, because he almost lit the eggs on fire. He didn’t actually know if that was physically possible, but apparently it was. So there. At least he put it out in time, so the smoke alarm didn’t go off and he didn’t have to deal with a tired, angry Jules asking why he kept on trying to burn down her house. 

She popped out of the changing room, looked around and frowned slightly. “Where’s everyone else?” 

“The Goose, or dealing with two year olds or teenagers or something. I figured we had more important things to deal with that didn’t involve hanging out with our co-workers, fun as that might be.” 

“Yeah, yeah we do.” Jules wasn’t meeting his eyes. This couldn’t be good. 

“About this morning…”

“Let’s go home, okay? I don’t want to talk about this here.”  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sam was about read to blow a gasket by the time they got back to Jules’ house. Well, it was really their house because he’d given his landlord notice a few months ago and had deposited all of his things at her place. She kept on making fun of him for how much crap he had, but it made her big house feel more like a home in his opinion. 

“So, about this morning…” Sam said. He had her mostly cornered now. He would be getting an answer now. 

“Yes.” Jules said. There was a pause. Sam had to keep his jaw from dropping. “You look surprised, Sam.” 

“I thought… I thought because you kept putting it off you were going to say no. Like, letting me down gently or some crap like that.” 

“No,” Jules said, with a gentle snort. “I never had any intention of saying no if you asked. Especially because you made an omelette this morning, which I didn’t know was a part of your skill set. It’s just… the idea of commitment made me want to bolt. You know how I am, Sam. But I can’t think about committing to anyone but you.” 

Sam was smiling so much he thought his face might split in half. “Then I have something to ask you again.” He ran back to the kitchen and retrieved the ring from where he stashed it when they left that morning, and dropped to one knee. “Julianna Callaghan, will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” said Jules, “I thought we’d already established that. Now give me that ring, get up, and kiss me.” 

He obliged her. After they’d separated, she asked, “So I’m guessing that’s what prompted the trip to Trenton a couple weeks ago?”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah, I knew that something was up,” Jules said. “No one had died or anything, and you wouldn’t normally visit out of your own free will.” 

“True,” Sam said, and kissed her again. 

“When do we tell the team?” Jules asked.

“Do we need to tell the team yet?” Sam said. 

“No, probably not. Okay Samtastic, you call your family, I’ll call mine. Then let’s get some Chinese. This calls for a celebration.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More on the team. Sorry for the lack of Ed and Greg, but I can't seem to get inside the brains of older bald guys.

Winnie sat down next to Spike as the bartender brought them their beers. There was silence for a moment, then Spike said, “Are you sure about the not dating cops thing?”

“It’s a rule, Spike,” Winnie said. “I need some balance in my life. It’s nothing personal, I just don’t want more of work at home.” She honestly didn’t know how Sam and Jules managed.

Spike shook his head and shrugged. “So, we won’t talk about work then, or about dating rules. Let’s just discuss… I don’t know. I’m at a loss.”

“You are rarely at a loss, Spike,” Winnie said, smiling. “I’m surprised.”

“Fine. Let’s play Twenty Questions.”

Winnie laughed. “Are you serious? I haven’t done that since about age nine.”

“Well, do you want to finish your drink in silence?”

“Point taken, Mr. Scarlatti,” Winnie said. “Why don’t you start? Ask me anything.”

“Siblings?” Spike said, taking a sip of his beer. “One older sister. How about you?”

“Nope, only child,” he said. “I was fairly unique among my peers in that respect. First kiss?”

Winnie groaned. She knew that this would probably come up. “Spin the bottle with Hamish McTaggarty in ninth grade. Buddy tried to cop a feel too, and I ran straight out of there and out of the party.

“Yikes,” Spike said. “That sounds Scottish.”

“Yeah, he was,” Winnie said, “red hair and everything. His accent was so thick you couldn’t understand anything that he said.”

And they went on talking and talking like that all night. Winnie was thoroughly enjoying herself with Spike. He was funny. He made her feel incredibly safe, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to trap him in a building with a drug dealer. (She did think that Natalie was being awfully dumb to expect the relationship to go back to normal after that.) Well, Winnie had her rules, and she didn’t break her rules. But… Spike? She was wondering if there was some kind of equilibrium point where the perfect guy factor with him took over the cop factor. He was certainly approaching it and she was pretty sure that it didn’t have anything to do with the the fact that she had perhaps gone a little too crazy with the alcohol and hadn't had enough to eat.

“… And then there was the most massive explosion, and I thought I was going to burn down the entire chemistry lab. I thought it was the most amazing thing but it ended up winning me a three-day suspension and exactly no dates for the remainder of my high school career.” Spike paused. “Winnie?”

Oops, she was staring and not really paying attention. Awkward. “Yeah?”

“You good?”

“Yeah.” That was a full ninety-eight percent true. Being there with Spike though, as much fun as they’d had just chatting like two old friends was starting to get too much. She was about to break the rule and do (or say) something that she would seriously regret.

Or not regret. That was a fairly serious option at this point. “I think I might need to call it a night,” Winnie said, getting up and making sure that she was absolutely steady on her feet before taking a step. No need to end up in Spike’s lap.

“Oh, okay,” Spike said, quickly hopping to his feet and grabbing her jacket. What a gentleman, she thought. How does he not already have a girlfriend?

Oh, well, he probably still lives at home. Those Italian boys.

They made their way outside the Goose, the cold air not doing much to pull Winnie back down to earth. Spike’s arm was around her shoulders, a gesture that she thought was surely meant to be friendly, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how warm he was now that she was just nestled against him. She turned to face him. “I bussed to work today, so I think I’ll just grab a cab home. Thanks for a lovely evening, Spike.”

“Are you sure?” He said, rushing his words a little. “I have my car, I’d be happy to drive you if you don’t feel like cabbing.”

She smiled. “I’m not really on your way if you’re heading back up to Woodbridge tonight. Don’t worry about it.”

“I don’t live in…” and then he stepped just a little closer to her, which she was sure meant that he couldn’t hear her or something, but suddenly they were kissing and she couldn’t get over how good he tasted or how his arms felt wrapped around her waist. For a few seconds, they were lost, but at some point Winnie’s brain flipped a switch back to the on position and she broke away.

“… in Woodbridge anymore. I’m at Ossington…” Spike said, trying and failing (he was panting and looked more than a little dazed) to continue the conversation as if that hadn’t just happened.

“Spike,” Winnie said, “I am so, so, sorry…” she said, backing away, and Spike wasn’t trying to catch her, and, oh look, there was a conveniently located taxi to whisk her away. “I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She bolted off in to the blue and white cab and left him standing there, mouth slightly open, and she’d never felt so truly terrible in her entire life. 

* * *

What the hell just happened? One minute, she says that she does date cops, Spike thinks, making his way to his car, the next we’re kissing outside of the Goose and then she just disappears like that?

What was going on with his life?

He drove home in a daze. The whole evening had been going so well up until that one, very critical point. He was having so much fun just talking to her, making her laugh (and vice versa, of course), and he hadn’t planned in his remotest faculties to have the evening end that way. It might have been nice, but he’d cast it aside to the great garbage bin of improbability when she’d turned him down that time. And then after that, the only that was running through his mind was a constant streak of _Winnie Winnie Winnie Winnie_ and he was thinking about how awesome it felt to be against her like that and then oddly, he was thinking about how soft her hair would have been if he’d had the brainpower to run his hands through it during their first (and in his mind, probably their only) kiss. He seriously felt like banging his head on his steering wheel just to make his brain shut off for a little while.

He parallel parked out in front of his building, because yay, he’d done what all good Italian boys didn’t usually do for a long time and flown the nest. It probably wasn’t fair to do that to his mom shortly after his father had passed, but he needed the space and she probably had better things to do than his laundry. He flicked the light on and collapsed on his new couch, which shook ominously and gave him further serious doubts about the stability of Ikea furniture.

He suddenly had the bright idea to text Jules.

_Did it get awkward between you and Sam after you guys kissed for the first time?_

He got an answer back about five minutes later. He suspected that she’d probably consulted with Sam on this one.

_Not too much. I think the weirder thing was hiding it._

_How about after you broke up?_

_Something on your mind, Scarlatti?_

He decided that this was a difficult one to have over text message so he called her instead. “I kissed Winnie,” he said the moment she picked up.

“But she turned you down?”

“Yeah, I thought that too. But then tonight, we were saying goodbye at the Goose and I stepped closer because I couldn’t hear her say something, and boom.” There it was. It felt good to get it off his chest. “Is it going to be weird tomorrow?”

“Probably,” Jules said.

“How did you and Sam make it not awkward when you guys broke up?” Spike asked. He could hear Sam snort in the background.

“I think we just kept the awkward very private,” Jules said. “There was plenty of awkward. God, imagine if we ever get divorced… oh, crap, I wasn’t supposed to say that.” He heard a yell of _Jules!_ in the background.

“You and Sam aren’t married… unless…” Spike said. “Oh my God, that was why you didn’t come to the Goose tonight. Sam had something to ask.”

“Well, it was something that, strictly speaking, had started this morning and was interrupted by an unfortunately timed call,” Jules said.

“Boss made him Sierra One while he was still wondering whether you’d say yes or not?” Oh man. This was too good. It was having a welcome distracting effect on him.

“Yeah. But I didn’t really want to say, hey boss, I kind of almost bolted from Sam’s proposal this morning so maybe don’t make him take any high-pressure shots today. Could you imagine?”

Spike laughed. “Have you guys told the team yet?”

“No,” Jules said, “we’ve both spoken to our respective families, which probably means that Nat is telling everyone who has a cellphone. You’re the first person on the team who knows, and Sam is telling me that if you don’t keep it quiet Babycakes will have an unfortunate accident.”

“Oh no,” Spike said in his mock frightened voice. “I’ll be worried enough about testing out my stealth skills trying to get past Winnie’s desk, so you’re safe. For now.” He could hear Jules laugh on the other end of the line.

“See you tomorrow, Spike.”

* * *

Ed figured that he probably needed to relieve Sophie from Izzie duty for a little while. That child had fortuitous timing, showing up when they were about to become empty nesters. Otherwise they probably would have killed each other.

“Hey Soph,” he called as he stepped inside. “Is that Daddy?” He heard a voice coming down the stairs. “Yes, I think that’s Daddy. Maybe he can take over Barbie Princess duty so mommy can make some dinner.” Sophie came down the stairs and passed Izzie off to him, and they shared a quick kiss.

“How was your day?” Ed asked, following Sophie in to the kitchen.

“Oh, okay,” Sophie said. “I thought we needed to see a bit more of the city so we went downtown and walked around by Queen’s Park and then all the way to the boardwalk. You’ll never guess who we ran into.”

“Soph, I really thought that we were going to try our best and reduce the number of Clark sightings now that he’s moved out.”

“It wasn’t bad,” Sophie said, chopping an onion, “I followed the protocol, which meant that I pretended I didn’t know him. Weird, but it worked.” Izzy let out a sharp cry.

“I’m going to interpret that as Barbie Princess time,” Ed said, “so I’ll leave you to it.”

He headed back upstairs with Izzy for some play time.

* * *

When Greg got home, the house was dark. He was almost about to pick up his phone and go third degree on Dean for not being home, but then he remembered that he was working on a school project with a friend and wouldn’t be home until late.

It was jarring, remembering how it was to be home before he had someone living with him full-time. He popped some pasta (seeing as that was what he and Dean survived on) into the microwave, picked up the paper, and sat down. They’d kept the peace today. There would be no blood on his hands or weight on his shoulders tonight.

Tonight, he’d sleep easy.


End file.
